Object of My Affections
by harllett
Summary: [Miracle] Jack O’Callahan is your average American hockey player. Until he realises he’s gay, and attracted to one of his closest friends…


**Disclaimer** : I own nothing. Except the slippery floor/bar of soap incident ;-)

**Summary** : Jack O'Callahan is your average American hockey player. Until he realises he's gay, and attracted to one of his closest friends…

**Rating** : PG

**Author's Note** : This idea was in my mind for a while before I wrote it – I was scared of writing slash in case it went horribly wrong. This is different to how I planned it, but I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out. I hope you like it.

**WARNING** : There is slash from here on in.

XX 

One of the downfalls of being on a hockey team is that you spend extensive periods of time with a group of immature, uncouth, bad-smelling males. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy it – I love the spirit and the loyalty and the good plain fun that being on a hockey team brings, and on the whole I love the people I spend time with – they become my family. But it pretty much sucks when everyone assumes you're gay, because you're forced into spending the majority of your time with twenty other young men.

Of course, with me, they assumed right.

I haven't introduced myself. Hi, I'm Jack O'Callahan. I'm your average young American male. About 6 feet tall, blonde, blue eyes, likes sport, socialising with friends, enjoys going out for a drink on a Friday night. I suppose I'm a bit different because I was picked for the 1980 USA Olympic hockey team. I guess I'm even more different because I'm gay.

It's weird how I never realised. People often say that they knew, on some level at least, that they were gay their entire life. But not me. I was swanning along quite happily, picking up girls in bars, partaking in the usual crude locker room gossip, using my status as a hockey player (and of course, undeniable sex god) to pull pretty much any girl I liked.

I played for hockey teams my whole life, and still never realised. I was never attracted to any of my teammates. Then I was picked for the Olympic team and everything changed – my whole life turned around. Not only did I realise I was gay, I realised I was attracted to a teammate. And that teammate was someone I'd known for a long time. He was one of my best friends.

Mike Eruzione. Affectionately known as Rizzo to pretty much everyone, he was a guy who everyone liked and everyone respected. You couldn't help but like him. He was just so nice! He cared about everyone, was there for you when you needed him – and even when you didn't. The guy was a born worrier, and sure it pissed me off sometimes – hell, I'll admit it, sometimes I felt completely stifled by him. But I could always rely on him, and I loved him. Platonically though – at least at first.

I'm not sure exactly when it was I first started feeling attracted to him. I know as clear as anything the exact moment I realised just how much I was attracted to him, and how much he meant to me – it was when I was sitting in a locker room next to him, laughing and joking like on any other day; and then Craig Patrick walked in. He told Coxy that Herb wanted to see him, and we all knew without being told that he was gonna get cut. The sense of overwhelming, intense relief that it wasn't Rizzo told me everything I needed to know.

But I don't know when it started. Was it when we were at the bar the night we made the team, and his calming, protective words showed me how much he cared about me? Was it my reaction to that showing me that I cared about what he thought? Was it the Norway game, when he made me so proud by saying he played for the USA? Was it when we were just hanging out with the guys, and they were ripping on me, and he stood up for me, just like he always did? Was it one of the times he turned that beautiful, heart-breaking smile on me? Was it when he came out of the kitchen, so pleased with himself because he'd figured out a new sauce to compliment his infamous meatballs? Was it when Herb was getting at him in practise, or when he brought in Harrer and we feared Rizzo would get cut?

I think I know when I first started fearing I was gay. I was in the locker room, buttoning up my shirt, perfectly innocent…and then Jimmy Craig walked out of the shower with a tiny white towel around his waist. I'd seen him in a towel before – hell, I'd lain on top of him naked before (it's a very long story, involving a wet and slippery shower room floor, a bar of soap, and a few clumsy hockey players). But I'll be damned if I didn't nearly faint at the sight of him. It was like, some kind of shutter behind my eyes opened, and I suddenly realised just how attractive the male form was to me.

I tried to deny it to myself for ages, but I couldn't. Then I realised I fancied Rizzo, and I couldn't pretend it wasn't there any longer. Finally, I stood in my room in front of the mirror, and I just said it. "I'm gay." It was as simple as that – I eventually accepted it.

And now I don't know what to do.

I'm sitting in my dorm room now, just staring at the wall, thinking it over. Rizzo will be back any minute; he just went down the hall to see Buzzy about something. Oh yeah, that's something else I should mention – we share a room.

It's the purest from of torture that anyone could have ever concocted. I have to sit here day after day, with him talking about girls, with him walking around half naked, wanting to touch him but knowing I can't. Sometimes I sit and watch him sleep, and all I want to do is cross the short distance to his bed, brush a lock of his gorgeous dark hair off his forehead, and kiss him. It's hard to resist, but I have to.

He's back now, walking in, his trademark grin on his face. I swear that smile is enough to send my heart fluttering. He's sitting on the bed next to me, talking about some scrape that Bah got Buzz into last night, but I'm not listening. All I'm thinking about is how I could move five inches to my left and be touching him. All I want to do is close the distance between us – but I can't.

Not able to take it any more I jerk away, stand up, head for the bathroom. I try so hard to act normally, but sometimes I just can't. Now I'm in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror, just like I did on that memorable day when I accepted myself for who I was. I recreate that moment now, trying to recapture that feeling of relief and pride in myself, but I can't. For one thing, I can't speak loudly and assuredly like I did then – I have to be quiet, in case Rizzo hears. The words come out almost as a mumble – "I'm gay."

One of the hardest things is keeping it so secret. I always used to tell Rizzo everything – now the one thing that is most important to me in the world, I can't reveal. Especially not to him. It would ruin everything. I'm confined to thoughts in my head, and whispered comments to myself when locked away in a bathroom.

Even if I told him I was gay, I wouldn't be able to tell him that he was the object of my affections. He'd be fine with me being gay – kind, loving, easy-going Rizzo would never turn against me because I was gay. But I couldn't tell him it was him I wanted. Then he'd start meddling in his usual manner of good intentions, trying to set me up…I couldn't stand it.

I can't reveal my secret. I'm trapped in a world of lies and fake smiles. At least I can admit it here, to you. I can say it loud and clear, and most of all unashamedly.

I'm Jack O'Callahan. I'm gay.


End file.
